


Fault Lines

by Maewen



Category: Galileo (TV Japan)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:43:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maewen/pseuds/Maewen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-sexy bedroom conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fault Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions an incident that only happened in my imagination.

Lying on her side, Utsumi Kaoru closed her eyes as she felt the bed dip down on the other side and the other person settled in. _Just go to sleep._

 

The phone on the bedside table chimed. It was the chime that she used just for Professor Yukawa. Her eyes opened and she reached over and picked up her phone, looking at the message. She then turned over and tapped the phone lightly against the professor’s head. “What are you doing?”

 

Still looking at the phone in his hand, he said, “It seems that messaging you when you are angry with me is the best way to get a response.”

 

Kaoru turned away again and put her phone back on the table. “I’m not mad at you.”

 

“Well, that’s troubling.”

 

She turned her head a little towards him. “Me not being mad at you is troubling?”

 

“If you were angry with me, that would explain your behavior towards me the past couple of days. Since you are not angry with me, I will have to figure out another explanation for your behavior. Finding the cause of that would be more difficult than placating you if are angry.”

 

She turned her head back to the bedside table. “I think I’m mad at you now.”

 

“So I have more than one problem now.”

 

She sighed and this time, rolled her whole body to face him. He was sitting up and looking at the phone in this hand, but he put it down and looked back at her. “I saw you play badminton the other day,” she said. “You lost.”

 

“And now you’re so ashamed of me, you can’t look at or speak to me properly?”

 

“What? No!”

 

Kaoru sat up and put a hand over the area below Yukawa’s shoulder. “Take off your shirt.”

 

He lifted his eyebrows, but complied.

 

She looked at his chest. There was a scar below his shoulder. Thin, straight, and neat. It was short in length, and truthfully, the wound it was from had not been that deep. She knew, in her head, that everything under that scar was fine now. She knew, but could not help herself. She put her hand over that scar. “This is my fault. You have this scar because of me. You lost the match because of me.”

 

“Then this,” Yukawa reached his hand under her shirt, up her back, and traced the longer scar he knew was there. “This--must be my fault.”

 

Her colleagues jokingly called the scars “matching love scars” because of what had happened, but she could only think of them as terrifying. Kaoru shook her head. “No. No, that’s not how it works.”

 

“That’s not logical.”

 

Other people might have said, “That’s not fair,” or, “That’s a bit hypocritical.” Only Yukawa would say it wasn’t logical. Kaoru couldn’t help it. She smiled a little.

 

“Galileo the weirdo,” she said. She took her hand off his chest and reached up and put her hand behind his neck  instead. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I don’t mind. The cadence of your voice indicates that it was not an insult.”

 

“I _meant_ , I’m sorry I made you worry.”

 

“Ah.” His hand still under her shirt, he slid it down a little, but did not remove it. “I have lost quite a few badminton matches over the years.”

 

“Kusanagi-san said you almost never lose.”

 

“Over 20 years ago when we were in still in college? Yes, that might have been true. Playing against college students when in my teens and early twenties is different from playing against college students when I am twice that age.”

 

“College students.” Kaoru giggled as she remembered something. “I was mistaken for one again the other day. It’s been a while.” She leaned her head down against the professor’s chest and closed her eyes. The movement made the fabric of her shirt stretch uncomfortably tight against his hand and he pulled it out.

 

“Kaoru,” he said. “Take off your shirt.”

 

“Hmmm,” she mumbled. Comfortable and not sure if she wanted to move, she tightened her hand slightly against his neck.

 

“You made me take off mine.”

 

Her eyes still closed, she said in a teasing, sing-song tone, “I’m supposed to be mad at you. Something about ‘placating’ me.”

  
“I can do that once you’ve taken off your shirt.” His voice was right next to her ear this time, ticklish and thrilling. So she complied.


End file.
